Crawling Back To You
by siriusblackheartattack
Summary: Beth wakes up with a gunshot wound to the head and no memory as to who she is - or who Daryl Dixon was. Watch her slowly remember as she finds her way back to him. I do not own these characters, they belong to AMC.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One – Oblivion and Back

She felt warm. No, it wasn't warmth exactly, it was something more comforting, something softer and lighter and pure. She felt – she felt – _ethereal_. That was it, she felt otherworldly. But everything was still dark.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart," she heard. The voice sounded familiar, filling her heart with love (and perhaps even something a little melancholy).

Beth Greene opened her eyes to a blinding light, blinking a few times to try and adjust. She was staring at a ceiling with white wooden panels. She could feel a ray of sunlight draped across her body; could see the specks of dust dancing in the air.

"My poor, beautiful girl," said the voice again. Beth sat up urgently; she knew that voice.

"Daddy?" she cried out, her head spinning at the sudden movement.

"Hi, baby girl," said Hershel, smiling at her sadly from across the room. He was sitting on a windowsill, basked in a yellow light so bright he was barely visible to her. In fact, it was _her_ windowsill in _her _room on _their_ farm.

"Daddy!" she cried out again (happily this time), struggling to get up off of the bed. Her bed. She couldn't seem to move a muscle. "What are we doing here, Daddy? I don't remember how I got here."

"No, pumpkin, you wouldn't," he replied, making no move towards her. She noticed a crossbow on his shoulders. This confused Beth - her father wasn't a violent man, yet the sight of it somehow comforted her. "Don't get up, Bethie, you're not supposed to be here yet, you don't want to toy with a place like this."

"What do you mean?" Beth asked him, squinting to try and see him better. Come to think of it, she had to squint to see anything in the room, it was so damn bright.

"It's not your time yet, honey. You've been given a glimpse, but it's not your time. I need you to open your eyes Bethie. I need you to really try." Her father seemed almost transparent in the brightness of it all.

"My eyes are open. Can't you see them? Daddy, where's Maggie? And Shawn? Did I miss church? Did I sleep in too late?" she asked him, confusion clouding her mind. How did she get here? Why couldn't she see anything but sunlight? And why did this room feel so… temporary? Hadn't she slept here all her life? Her head was buzzing.

"Your eyes," Hershel said with a scary urgency, "open your eyes, I need you to understand that this place isn't for you. Not yet, not for a long time."

"What are you talking about Daddy? I don't understand! Why can't I see you, why can't you come over here?" said Beth, tears streaming down her face in her confusion. "Please, Daddy, my eyes are open, what's going on?"

"I can't cross over to you, I'm afraid. It isn't my place to meddle with God's plan," Hershel said, sounding distant now. Beth blinked through her tears, struggling to see his face through the bright haze. "I know it's hard, pumpkin. I know you have a long road ahead of you, but always remember how much I love you. Beth, honey, _open your eyes."_

The buzzing in her head grew louder and louder. More menacing.

_Open your eyes._

She could feel her heart pounding painfully in her chest. The buzzing turned to a striking pain.

_Open your eyes!_

Beth shut her eyes tightly to the blinding room, wishing to understand, wishing for the buzzing to stop.

_Open your eyes!_

_Open your eyes!_

_Open your eyes!_

_HelloHelloCanyouopenyoureyeskiddo? Ifyoucanhearme –_

The buzzing increased just as the pain got louder. She could feel something cold and metal under her hand, and a distant, far away voice seemed to be reaching out to her in the pandemonium.

_I'vebeenaloneforsolong….please…please be alive, kid_

She could make out strings of words but they didn't seem to be making much sense.

_Open your eyes, girl! Open them up so I can help you!_

It clicked. Her eyes were shut, her head was throbbing, ripping apart at the seams. Something cold was under her hand, and something warm was pressed up against her face.

_I know you're in there, kid. I can tell you're a fighter. Just open your eyes!_

And she did. A hooded man was leaning through a car door at her with a crazed look in his eye. His hand was on her face, trying to shake it gently. He gasped, and for a split second, time stopped.

Almost without thinking, without even know how she knew what was coming, Beth's fingers closed around the pistol that had been stuck underneath her hand and pointed it forwards. The hooded man didn't even have a moment to react before Beth emptied the last remaining bullet into the silent walker threatening to bite the unknowing hooded stranger in the leg behind him.

"Jesus, fuck!" the man exclaimed, jumping up and hitting his head on the roof of the car. He turned and stomped quickly on the walker, making sure it was dead. "You just saved my goddamn life!"

"You're welcome," wheezed Beth, slowly feeling herself slip back out of consciousness. The gun had been heavy, almost too heavy, and she felt every last bit of energy seeping out of her.

"No, no no no no," said the strange man, reaching behind him to pull out a dirty cloth. "I'm not going through that again." He gently wiped the cloth over Beth's face, and she realized it had been moistened with freezing water. She felt her heart beats level out as she took a few even breaths.

"Who are you?" said Beth, not even bothering to sit up. She could tell she was in a car. It was filthy, it stunk, and her legs had clearly been coiled up to allow her to lay awkwardly down in the backseat. How did she get here? Why did she have a gun? Why did she call that thing a walker, and how did she know she should kill it? Questions buzzed through her mind, mixing with pain and anger and utter darkness.

"The name's Morgan," said the man, ducking his head back into the car. She could see him much clearer now. He had sad, dark eyes. "I don't know how the hell you're still breathing, kid, but I'm sure glad to have found someone."

"What do you mean?" winced Beth, realizing that the pain in her head wasn't just a part of her confusion. The slow throbbing was becoming less of a dull ache and more of a pounding, searing pain.

"Your head," he said, widening his eyes. "I can't even begin to guess what happened to you, but you've been shot in the fucking brain, kid. Straight through. And you're breathing… and fuck you're even talking… I didn't think miracles still happened these days," he added.

"Oh," she said, and fell silent. Panic was slowly rising in her throat, wrapping itself around her vocal chords, stopping her breath. She had been shot? _In the head?_ Is that why she couldn't remember anything? Would she be able to walk?

"Hey, hey, breathe, kid. You need to breathe," Morgan said, quickly.

"I'm not a damn kid," Beth said angrily, surprising herself. "I have a name."

"Yeah, Beth, I know."

Beth looked at him. She was just about to tell him she didn't know her name, she only knew she had one.

"How did you know that?"

"It says so right here," Morgan explained, pointing at something scribbled on a piece of crumpled paper in his hand. It looked a lot like a crumpled $20.

"Can you read it to me?" asked Beth, her curiosity overpowering the pain for a moment.

"Sure thing, but it's kinda hard to read. Whoever wrote it cried on it a lot…" he replied, flattening it out to read. Beth could see it clearly now, and it was definitely a note written on a piece of money.

Morgan cleared his throat. "Her name was Beth. She was a hero, she died a hero. She was a daughter and a sister. She was hope. She was my hope. She saved my life. It was dark for a long time until Beth. It'll be dark forever without her. Maybe I'll see you again someday, Greene. You were the last good one."

Beth lay speechless for a moment, letting this stranger's words wash over her. She didn't remember anything, couldn't remember who would have written such a lovely thing, or why. She wished she could. She wished she could remember being good, being a hero. But her mind was nothing but empty spaces.

"He certainly cared a lot about you," Morgan said, looking down at her.

"He?" Beth asked quietly.

"The handwriting. It's all messy. Just looks like a man's writing. I found it in your hand, someone had stuffed it into your fist, along with this."

Morgan pressed a small object in her palm. Beth raised it quickly to her face, and smiled through all her pain. It was a small wooden ladybug. Someone had roughly carved her a ladybug figurine and left it for her.

"Guess whoever it was didn't know you were alive," Morgan said slowly, shaking his head. "Pulse must have been too weak."

"Yeah," said Beth, feeling the pain inching through her skull once more. She squeezed the ladybug to try and stop the throbbing. It helped a little. "Looks like I made it after all."

Beth Greene was alive. She was well and truly alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two – Silence**

Daryl hadn't spoken yet. It wasn't so much that he wouldn't speak, he simply couldn't. Words had failed him, as they often had in the past.

He had never been the man who spoke his mind, as language was not easy for him – he had never learned how to properly communicate. But this was something different. This wasn't simply a lack of communication. This was the end of the world. How could he possibly open his mouth and explain to every one that his world had ended and somehow he hadn't yet been dragged down into the ashes along with it?

As he walked silently next to Rick, as had become customary this past week, he noticed that everyone had finally stopped looking at him. Almost as if they had collectively agreed to leave him in alone. He didn't need their fussing, and he preferred it this way. He couldn't possibly explain to them the magnitude of loss he was feeling, and he didn't expect they could help him.

Rick understood. Daryl was sure of it. Rick would glance at him occasionally with a profound sadness, as Judith slept on his shoulder. It was a kind of sadness that is shared, a mutual sadness. Not long ago, Rick had lost his world, too. Or perhaps it had been long ago now… Daryl's sense of timing was off. This reality seemed slower, duller. Endless. Relentless.

He had been covered in her blood. This was the first thing he remembered really noticing after it all happened. He had carried her to the filthy car and cradled her to his chest in the backseat as the group sped off down the road. He could hear Rick and Michonne arguing in the front, Carl sobbing next to him in the back, and Judith perfectly quiet, reaching out to grab one of Beth's lifeless fingers. He couldn't stop his own tears. They blurred his vision and set his mind spinning. He had to take large gulps of air to keep himself from forgetting his own name. He had tried to distract himself by unwrapping the cast on her wrist and using the bandage to cover the wound on her head. It was quick work, and hadn't made him feel better in the slightest.

When the car crashed into a horde of walkers, Daryl hadn't moved. Michonne, Rick and Carl spun like blurs outside as one by one they eliminated the threat. But the car was wrecked. They had nowhere to go anyway, he thought. Nothing left to see, no one left to meet. He wished time would stop, like in one of those fairy tales. He wished time would stop and they would all just fall asleep for eternity. He wanted to hold Beth to him forever, in a peaceful doze, never having to face this new reality where she was just gone.

But fairy tales were a thing of the past. They were a thing of _her_ world, back when her presence made the sunshine brighter. She had been a fairy tale; not the princess, no, but the knight in shining armor. She saved herself, she saved him. Stories end, he thought to himself deliriously – there was no happily ever after anymore. He had been kidding himself to hope he could find one.

He wouldn't leave the car. For a day and a half, the group tried to coax him out. Abraham had found a truck big enough to carry them all and was anxious to leave the main road. But Daryl stayed put. He had collected his thoughts enough to know that he had to honor her somehow. He couldn't take her with him, he knew that. But he couldn't just leave her like this with nothing. So he turned the car into her shrine. Carol had found flowers off the road a way. Tara had given him a pen from her backpack. And Rick had gathered everyone off to the side to give Daryl some privacy.

The only papers left in his rucksack had been twenty-dollar bills, but he knew Beth would have smiled at this. He wrote down what he couldn't say. It was short, and he had to stop every so often to wipe away the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. But it was done.

Lifting her off of him was the hardest thing Daryl had ever done. With her weight suddenly off his chest, he felt the enormous emptiness she had left there. He wasn't sure his heart could beat anymore. He wasn't sure it was even there.

He took care to spread her out on the backseat comfortably. Without thinking, he quickly grabbed her cold, pale hand, and pressed a small kiss to the inside of her palm before gently placing the crumpled note inside it. He hesitated a moment, unsure about what to do next, before making up his mind. He reached down into his backpack and produced a small wooden ladybug. He had been carving it absentmindedly over the past few weeks. At first, it had just been something to pass the time – he hadn't thought about it – hadn't even realized what exactly he was carving. After a week or so, he had realized it was taking the shape of a ladybug. It was comforting to him, it reminded him of Beth; of how she had laughed when a ladybug had landed on her face. How she exclaimed excitedly about how they would soon find good luck. Daryl had looked at her in affectionate exasperation. How he wished he could go back to that moment now.

Although he knew he would miss it, Daryl slipped the ladybug figurine into the folds of the note now lying in Beth's hand. He moved to manually lock the car door and close it one last time when Carl stopped him.

"Wait!" he had exclaimed suddenly, running forward to join Daryl. Daryl looked at him bleakly. "She should have this, just in case."

Carl reached back and pulled his pistol out of his belt. Avoiding Daryl's puzzled stare, Carl had bent down and placed the gun under Beth's other lifeless hand. "I'll feel better knowing she has it anyway," he said, looking up at Daryl.

Daryl suddenly felt envy he had never known his entire life. This delusional kid still had hope that Beth could come back. Miracles didn't happen. Beth was dead. Daryl couldn't help but look at Carl and wish that he, too, could live in this fantasy. But he couldn't. Without a word, he shut the car door and turned away from the shell of the woman who had once believed in him. As he walked towards the group, every step felt like damnation.

"We need to clean you up, man," Tyreese had said to him, placing a comforting arm on Daryl's shoulder. Daryl said nothing as he stared straight ahead. He was covered in her blood. But it was a part of her. It was sacred.

Eventually they had forced him to rinse his clothes. They had upset Maggie too much, who had just begun to calm down for a moment, before Daryl stepped up into the back of the truck. He didn't care about her feelings, if anything, he felt a searing anger at her. What had Maggie done to save Beth? What had any of them done? They had hardly noticed her absence. But even in his anger, Daryl silently complied with them. He washed off the blood. Her blood. But a stain remained. It almost comforted him.

The week had passed. The truck ran out of fuel, the group fought off attack after attack of walkers. The kid, Noah, had said something about safety in Virginia. Daryl didn't care. Safety couldn't help him. The group eventually stopped trying to make him feel better. Maggie seemed more in need, and he wouldn't talk to them anyway. Walking in silence next to Rick day in and day out was his only coping mechanism. If he had to walk forever with this darkness hanging in the air above him, so be it. Maybe this was it. _You gotta stay who you are, not who you were…._ But who was he now? He was pain, he was suffering, he was sadness. He would go mad, he just knew it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three – Reboot**

There was a lot Beth couldn't remember about herself, but there were also a few things she knew to be true, although she couldn't quite explain how. She knew her father. Hershel's face hadn't been wiped from her memory, although for the life of her, she couldn't remember her siblings. She was good with children and animals, this was something else she could feel in her bones. And she missed someone immensely. It was a deeply unsettling feeling in her gut that rivaled the pain in her head – she just knew that she had left someone behind – or rather the other way around. She couldn't remember who or why or when or where, but there was a homesick-like feeling to it. Like she had almost crossed a finish line. Like she had been ripped away from….from…from something _good._

Of course she had been ripped away, the bullet hole in her brain was evidence enough to that. But Beth couldn't help but wonder who she used to be. And who was she now? It was funny how she could know so very little about her world and still feel an immense confusion settle upon her…

"…which is why I opened the door in the first place. Beth? BETH." Morgan's voice snapped Beth back to reality. A reality in which she was laying on the cold hard ground in front of a fire with a strange, sad man.

"I need you to try and stay focused on the now, kid. I don't know enough about bullet wounds to tell you what's healthy and what isn't, but being alone with your thoughts will kill you even without a hole in your brain."

Beth managed a grimace. He was right. These questions would kill her. She could spend her life worrying, or she could focus her energy on trying to get better instead. She moved to sit up.

"Woah, woah, woah…" Morgan said, as he quickly moved to help her. "Take it slow, girl. Your being alive may be a miracle but staying alive is gonna take something different."

"Do you think we should try to clean the wound?" Beth asked him quietly, as he propped her up against the tire of the car.

"I just don't know," Morgan replied, shaking his head. "I don't know how long you were out. I don't know when you were shot. I don't know if I should expect you to seize up and collapse any minute-"

But he froze when he saw the terrified look on Beth's face.

"The point is, you seem to be alright now, and I don't wanna screw with that."

"Fair enough," wheezed Beth. Sitting up had caused her blood to move differently, and her head wound was pounding worse than before. "Why don't you distract me then. Tell me about yourself. What's a guy like you doing helping a hopeless case like me?"

"I was gettin' to that," Morgan said to her, smiling. "But you were off in your mind somewhere."

"I'm all ears now, promise," said Beth. She liked Morgan. Not just because he hadn't left her for dead. He seemed kind. Broken, but kind-hearted, much like her father. _That_ was it. He gave off a sort of paternal glow, she felt safe and looked after, regardless of the fact that she had met him only an hour prior.

"I'm following a group," Morgan said slowly. "I made a friend, a long time ago, back before… well… he was a good man who tried to help, but the last time I saw him, I wasn't in my right mind. I need to make up for that. And I need to find him, find his people. I can't be alone anymore, and I know wherever Rick is, good people are bound to follow."

"How long have you been alone?" Beth asked, genuinely curious.

"I lost track of the days," Morgan replied, his eyes glazing over. "When I lost Duane I lost track of everything."

"Duane was my son," he said slowly, giving in to Beth's quizzical look. "I can say that now – I couldn't before. He was my boy, and I lost him, and he's probably better off for it."

A silence hung between them for a minute. Beth didn't want to pry. She knew there wasn't anything to say to comfort a parent who lost a child. But now she was sure of her safety. This man had compassion and patience, he was a father after all. Beth felt a flare of happiness for a moment – she now knew something else about herself; she had great instincts. _Or I'm a little too trusting_, she thought to herself, wryly.

...

At first, it was sort of an unspoken agreement between them that Morgan would help Beth. He had mentioned not knowing how far behind Rick he was.

"A few more days won't really hurt, I guess," he had said after another day, when Beth insisted that he had helped her enough and could keep on tracking his group. "Besides, I don't leave people behind."

By her second day of full consciousness, Beth could sit up and turn her head to look around. She was becoming used to the searing pain residing permanently in her temple. But she felt useless. Morgan had killed three walkers on his own – and by now had explained this new world they lived in to her.

Beth hadn't shown any great surprise in discovering what was essentially the end of the world. She supposed her subconscious had remembered it from before she was shot. She took the news easily – walkers didn't shock her. They didn't even disgust her. They just made her sad.

"Morgan," Beth had called out to him on the third day. She was sitting up on a rock – still much easier than standing (although she couldn't stop feeling lightheaded). "Morgan, I don't even have a weapon. There are no bullets left in my gun, and I don't have the energy or strength to fight. You should leave me here."

He had turned around and simply shook his head. He was a man of his word. Beth gave up trying to convince him to leave. _Don't give up on yourself so easily, Greene_, she said to herself. _You made it this far, you can keep on keepin' on._

It took time, but after a few solid meals out of cans, Beth was able to hobble slowly next to Morgan, all the while clutching his arm.

"Slow and steady wins the race," he had said to her encouragingly, leaning down to pick up his rucksack. It was time to move on.

"You'd better believe it," she had replied with a smile. A few hours earlier, Morgan had rinsed off her bandage and reapplied it to her head. The cool water had soothed her, lightening her spirits. "Oh wait!"

Slowly but surely, Beth spun her body around enough to lean down into the filthy car that had been her tomb. Her hands fumbled for a moment before her fingers wrapped around the small wooden ladybug and her $20 obituary. She stuffed them both into her back pocket, and straightened out again, slowly. Beth smiled to herself. They made her feel a lot less homesick. Patting her pocket to make sure her treasures were safe, Beth turned to face Morgan, and nodded slowly.

"Let's go."

**Hi everyone! First of all, I wanted to say thank you for all of the lovely messages. They mean so much to me! (Also I'm sorry the last chapter made you cry, to those of you who told me it did). This is going to be a slow moving story... I really love the idea of Beth and Morgan becoming a dynamic warrior duo, and I also really like writing Daryl's man pain. But I might do a few chapters in the POV of some other characters. (I'm open to suggestions!)So yeah, there will be lots of angst and emotions and Bethyl feels, and the reunion is definitely not gonna happen immediately. I will make sure there is something Bethyl related in every chapter though (even if it's just a small feeling or something)! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 - Blue**

For a long time, Daryl felt helpless. A week and a half had passed since they had left her there in her shrine. He couldn't stop thinking about it. About her. Her yellow hair spilling over the backseat as he laid her to rest for the last time. Her pale arm dangling there, lifeless and cold. Her eyes had been shut. He hadn't had to close them himself, for which he was thankful. Seeing her lifeless big blue eyes would have been – well, Daryl couldn't even think about them.

He remembered first noticing them back at the farm. He hadn't given much thought to Beth then. If he was honest with himself, he hadn't given much thought to Beth ever – not until she was forced upon him by some wonderful act of fate. She had always been there, sure, but he kept out of her way. He didn't associate himself with people like her. Better people. People who still had hope. But the image of those big blue eyes had been seared into the back of his brain.

It had been raining that day. Daryl's tent was pitched further back from those of the group – they had set up camp beside Hershel's house only days before. Daryl had been recovering from his injury after looking for Sofia. Carl was starting to get his strength back, and Daryl was sure they'd be forced to leave any day now. He remembered being uncomfortable in the tent. Sure, Glenn and Shane were on watch, but Daryl had always felt cooped up and trapped in closed spaces like this. But Rick had insisted he stay in the tent and sleep – he had to recuperate.

There had been a sort of knock on the tent's canvas wall. Daryl had picked up his knife before grunting out a low "what?"

Beth was certainly the last person he had expected to see.

"Oh, um, I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon," she had said as she clambered into the tent, arms full of clothes. "It's just that I have your clothes, Patricia washed 'em and dried 'em for you."

She had seemed almost afraid to talk to him.

"Name's Daryl, call me that," he had replied, putting down the knife. No one had ever called him Mr. Dixon before. It made him think of his father, the bastard. He avoided her gaze – he didn't much like talking to strangers.

"Alright," she'd said, placing the folded clothes down in a corner of the tent. She moved to duck back out through the opening.

"Thanks, Beth," he had said quietly, suddenly remembering his manners.

She had turned around quickly and looked him straight in the eye. Daryl had never looked Beth in the eye before. Her eyes were blue, sky blue, pretty and round. It felt like she could see right through him. Or maybe he just wasn't very used to people looking at him. He preferred invisibility, being in the background. He suddenly felt uncomfortable, and dropped his gaze.

"Anytime, Daryl," she'd replied with a quick smile, hesitating slightly before saying his name. And then she was gone.

But Daryl remembered those eyes. He'd made a point not to look at them when she was around. Something about those eyes always made him nervous.

How he wished he could see them now. How he wished he had known then what he knew now. How Beth was the truest thing in this godforsaken world. How Beth's eyes weren't looking through him, but right at him. Like she knew him. She did know him – eventually at least.

And she hadn't hated him. Not even after all the stories of abuse and violence – sometimes by his own hand. She didn't turn her back or find him disgusting. He could hardly believe it, but something in her eyes always gave her away. It was acceptance, it was wonderful, it was unheard of. Those big blue eyes that had once made him nervous quickly became his biggest comfort. His luminous redemption.

He remembered how they looked in the light of a bright fire – when they had burned down the shack, that horrible place she had somehow cured him of. As they stared at the rising flames in their drunken glory, Daryl remembered finally looking straight into those eyes, and finding strength and power in them. It was what solidified his new opinion of her – Beth Greene was some sort of miraculous warrior. It was in her eyes, had always been in her eyes. He had just been too blind to see it.

"Daryl, we're stopping here for the night," Rick said to him suddenly, pulling Daryl out of his stupor.

Daryl felt sadness settle over him again – he had been doing such a good job distracting himself, it seemed like almost an hour had passed. He nodded at Rick.

Daryl took first watch as the group settled in. He looked over them quietly as they began to pull out their sleeping bags and gear. Michonne was cradling Judith, talking softly to her. Tyreese and Sasha began to split a can of corn, each taking care to split the food evenly. Carol was sitting alone on a log. Daryl knew she hadn't been in a good place for a long time, and shouldn't be left alone.

He ambled over to her and stood silently next to his friend. She looked up at him sadly and smiled. She understood. She always understood perfectly. But there was nothing they could do for each other, so they remained silent in miserable companionship, looking out over the forest that seemed to engulf the road.

Eventually everyone fell asleep. Well, everyone but Maggie (and Rosita, who was on watch). Daryl knew she couldn't sleep either. She hadn't tried to talk to him, although they remained the only two left awake all night, every night. It was like she knew. She knew he was furious with her. She knew not to tempt him. Daryl's rage was clear, even without the use of his voice. She cried a lot. He let her. She deserved it.

_I miss Maggie, I miss her bossin' me around…_

Daryl could hear Beth's voice loud and clear in his head. Every night for eleven nights now, he heard her say this to him, over and over again. Beth had cared so much about everything, about everyone. And in Daryl's mind, they had all betrayed her somehow. But none more than Maggie, her own flesh and blood. Hell, Daryl himself had done more to look for his good for nothing brother than Maggie had for Beth. He felt nothing but unadulterated anger toward the eldest Greene. So much so that he was actually surprised by his own restraint. So he left Maggie alone with her grief, just as she'd left Beth alone to die.

And there he was again, thinking about Beth's death. It came full circle, twelve or thirteen times a night. He could distract himself with happier memories of her, but eventually they all lead back to this. Her death. How he wished he could see those eyes again. How he wished he could talk to her again, see her eyes light up when he surprised himself by saying something smart or funny.

_I miss you, Beth. I miss you bossin' me around…_

He closed his eyes, but sleep never came.

**Hi everyone! Thank you for reading and commenting on the last chapter! I really appreciate it!** **I just wanted to add that by no means do I hate Maggie. She was actually one of my favorite characters until she was horribly written this last season, so I don't want to make her the bad guy forever, I'm trying to find a way to redeem her from the shitty writing she was put through. Also, I really love Carol, I think she's so important in the show, so I'm planning to use her character from time to time. I love the friendship between Carol and Daryl, I think the two characters need one another and regard each other like siblings. And obviously I want to explore the brotherhood between Rick and Daryl in future chapters, too. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five - Engines**

Walking was exhausting. Especially when the walking was monotonous, endless, and seemingly pointless.

Beth had been having a hard time with everything. Her lack of a weapon was slowing them down, her lack of memory was putting her off, and her lack of energy was breaking her spirit. Morgan tried to help, he was a good man, but even he could only do so much.

Yet he refused to leave her behind. For this, Beth was grateful.

"There should be a couple of houses around here somewhere," he had said to her in encouragement. It had felt like hours ago, yet no houses were in sight. Beth just wanted a sanctuary. She wanted somewhere to rest. She wanted to get stronger.

Morgan had told Beth a lot about his journey. He had barely made it out alive quite a few times, it seemed almost miraculous to her that he should still be around to tell the tale. He also knew a lot about the area they were in. He had walked this road already, while following that man, Rick, and his group.

"Yeah they were headed up into Atlanta, the outskirts. Only a couple of things out that way: a few retirement homes, a hospital, couple of car dealerships and a whole bunch of cheap apartment buildings. But then it looks like they got what they were lookin' for and turned around. Came back out this way for something.' That's sorta where I found you. And that's where the tracks seemed to get funny. I found this map a while back, seemed like they were headed to Washington DC, but they sure ain't doing it in a straight line. So I figure tracking them is my best bet."

Morgan had been repeating this story to her once a day. Beth knew it wasn't for her own benefit. Hope was a powerful thing. Holding on to the hope that they could find this group and put an end to loneliness once and for all seemed to be the fuel to Morgan's ever-blazing fire. She understood. Hell, she was with him – more people could only help her chances of survival.

"Morgan, there!"

She had found a house. Beth was beside herself. She almost toppled over as she forgot to keep a steady grip on Morgan's arm in her excitement.

"And there's a car, too! Will you look at that," Morgan exclaimed happily. They walked slowly up to the front door.

"Alright, Beth, you stay out here while I clear out the rooms. Give me a holler if you see any walkers. And be ready to go if we have to run." Morgan had adopted Beth's nickname for the dead, claiming 'walkers' was a nicer word than 'zombies.' Beth nodded at him, happy to finally be able to rest.

It couldn't have been more than ten minutes later that Morgan appeared again at the front door, breathing heavily, but smiling. "Only had to deal with two of 'em," he said with a grin. "Come on in."

Beth grabbed the small wooden ladybug out of her pocket before stepping over the threshold slowly. She had decided it was her new good-luck ritual.

Her head hadn't stopped thudding since she first woke up from her death sleep, but she was sure that sleeping in a safe place certainly wouldn't hurt.

"I'm gonna start closing up the place tight," Morgan said to her, after making sure she didn't trip or fall before getting into the safety of the house. "There's a living room right at the end of this hall, I figure we should set up camp in there. It's central and easy to protect."

Beth nodded again. Morgan didn't seem to mind her silence. She slowly started to make her way down the hall.

As she passed, she noticed that the walls were covered in picture frames. The family that lived here had once been beautiful, she thought to herself. She let her eyes wander over the smiling faces of strangers; she took in the wedding photos, beautiful baby pictures, holiday portraits, and candid shots that had been left to collect dust. Suddenly her eyes found the smallest picture on the wall, and her heart skipped a beat.

There wasn't anything particularly special about the photo. It was clearly of one of the three young boys, now all grown up. He was grinning, wearing a Dartmouth blazer and leaning against an old Harley Davidson bike. Beth found herself looking past the man to the bike behind him, her eyes filling with tears. She couldn't quite understand how or why, but that homesick feeling was back again, worse than before. She could feel her heart simultaneously fill up and split in two. And she couldn't stop tears from streaming down her face, responding to an invisible stimulus. A damn motorcycle. Why did she care so much about a motorcycle?

A loud bang pulled her out of her misery. Beth whipped her head around and realized that Morgan had been pushing bits of heavy furniture against the doors to stabilize them. She winced, realizing she shouldn't have moved so quickly, as she felt blood pounding through her head. She had been absentmindedly clutching the ladybug figurine tightly in her hand. She needed to lie down.

Morgan made sure Beth was comfortable on the sofa before heading back out to close up the rest of the house. And without a second thought, Beth fell asleep. But even her dreams confused her now.

She dreamed she was chasing a motorcycle, calling after it as it left her behind in the dust. The roaring of the engine dulling the sound of her voice until she couldn't speak anymore. Then the dream changed.

Now she was sitting in front of a glorious fire, unable to tear her eyes away. It was warm, so warm and friendly. She felt happiness glide over her in waves, not caring to know why.

From somewhere behind her she heard a gruff voice, far away, out of reach, "_Maybe we stick around here for a while. If they come back, we'll just make it work._"

_What changed your mind?_ she said to the emptiness. An engine roared in her ears once more.

Beth woke up with a gasp. _What changed your mind?_ She could still feel those words on the tip of her tongue. But why? Had she been talking to herself? Whose voice was that? The frustration was killing her, she could feel angry tears threatening to sting. Her head felt like it was being ripped in two. Had it hurt this much before? She could hardly think without wincing.

Morgan had accidentally fallen asleep on the floor below her, but he sat up quickly when he heard her cry out in pain.

"Beth, what is it?" he exclaimed, thrashing about in a panic in the semi-darkness.

"Morgan, it's okay. It's just my head. Go back to sleep." Beth barely managed to get all of the words out. The pounding in her head kept getting louder and louder. Panic was rising in her throat. Something was terribly wrong.

"Beth, you don't sound so good."

Morgan reached behind him to pull out his kerosene lamp. It had been dimmed. He turned up the light and gasped.

"You're whiter than a ghost."

But she didn't hear him. Beth felt herself slipping out of consciousness almost instantly. _What changed your mind? _Beth could almost hear herself saying these words out loud as everything faded to black.

She slipped in and out of consciousness. She heard an engine again, this time much louder and closer. Then blackness.

Voices this time. _I'd passed you before… thought maybe you could help… bring her inside… her memory… see what we can do…_

They meant nothing to her. Darkness enveloped her again.

Beeping this time. A steady beeping. Beth opened her eyes. She could feel the darkness fading away. Her head was throbbing, but nothing like it had before.

It was very bright. She noticed this first. Then she saw a face – it seemed friendly enough, slightly balding and sad. She supposed all faces were sad nowadays.

"Beth? Are you awake, Beth? Your friend Morgan told me that was your name," the face said to her.

"What happened?" she asked in a daze. She couldn't move her arms. It hit her - they were tied down. Panic rose in her once again as she tried to sit up.

"Shhhh, it's okay, it's okay. It was for your own safety, you were thrashing around a lot this week," the strange man said to her. "Here, I'll untie you now."

This week?

"Where am I, what happened?" Beth asked. She was sick of having to rely on strangers.

"Your friend brought you here. You had a pretty terrible head wound, a bullet hole actually. It got infected. You've been out for a week now, but I think you'll be okay. We've cleaned it up for you, given you some meds. Lucky Morgan knew to bring you here."

She looked around. White walls, a simple clock, and an IV sticking out of her arm. It was a hospital. Beth felt relief wash over her.

"My name is Dr. Edwards," the man said, straightening his black-framed glasses. "Welcome to Grady Memorial Hospital. You'll be safe here, I promise."

He smiled down at her. Her stomach churned. Something was wrong, but she couldn't quite place it.

Beth heaved herself onto her side and vomited all over the floor.

**Yep, I went there! I was actually really excited to write the end of this chapter. I had the idea to send Beth back to Grady without any memory of already having been at Grady! Plus it makes more sense that Beth could recover from a bullet wound to the head with proper medical attention, and doing that back at Grady lets me explore a lot as a writer. I hope you all like it! More to follow soon! Hopefully I can answer all of the questions you might have after reading this chapter in the next few Beth chapters! Also please continue to comment, it makes my day, even when it's constructive criticism!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Laces **

Rick and Carol were really starting to worry about him, he could tell. Carol glanced at him with concern in her eyes too often. Her mouth was constantly in a thin line, a tight grimace. Rick wouldn't leave his side, constantly making sure Daryl was eating, that he was drinking enough water, that he was functional. He was acting the way Daryl had always imagined a good father should be. He appreciated it, but they couldn't help him. No one could help him, so he kept his mouth shut, his eyes forward, and plowed on.

By day 17 (he was counting the days since she'd left him), it was pouring with rain. The group was growing weary – they hadn't stopped to rest in days, constantly moving on with the help of their soggy map and Noah's instructions.

Daryl knew it was time to stop, he knew because he could see the way Michonne's shoulders sagged, the way she seemed to be lagging. Daryl had often thought of her as the strongest of the group – stronger than him, than Rick, than all of them. If Michonne couldn't take much more, the rest of them seemed doomed. So for the first time in over two weeks, he spoke up.

"We gotta find shelter."

He had said it quietly, to Rick, who had been walking next to him in the downpour, with a tarp over baby Judith to keep her dry. Daryl was surprised to find that his voice still worked – in his mind, Beth's death had altered everything, including the very workings of his own body.

Everyone in the group stopped and turned to look at him. Father Gabriel's mouth actually fell open.

Daryl cleared his throat, knowing there was no backing out now.

"We gotta find somewhere dry to wait out this rain. S'not good for any of us to keep on like this."

"He's right," said Glenn, speaking up, his arm around Maggie. Everyone turned to look at him. Daryl breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "None of us want to walk in this rain, it's getting dark, and getting sick won't help any of us. We need to find somewhere to wait out this storm. Somewhere big enough for all of us."

Abraham stepped forward. He was the keeper of the map, and usually the first one to suggest that they keep moving, despite the obstacles in their way.

"Agreed," he said. "I saw a patch of land circled off on the map not too far west of here, may be a farm."

Daryl's stomach dropped at this. He saw Sophia clambering out of Hershel's farm again. He saw Carol breaking down again. He saw Beth kneeling at the body of her mother again. He saw the burning, the horde, all over again in his mind. But he knew Abraham was right – the road had been surrounded by nothing but trees for days – shelter wouldn't be easy to come by.

Everyone looked to Rick, as they always did. Rick looked around at all of them, his eyes falling on Carl, who was clearly trying not to shiver. He nodded. They would head west for the night.

…

The sun came down on them quickly, and they had to fight off a small herd of walkers. Tara pulled a muscle in the process, making it hard for her to walk, slowing them down. But the rain was their biggest obstacle still. It made the muddy ground hard to walk on, made the sounds of nearby walkers harder to hear, and it made tracking next to impossible. Daryl wouldn't be able to help feed his group tonight. This only made him feel worse.

It took longer than expected, finding the barn, but in the end, Abraham had been right. Rosita and Tara actually cheered when they stumbled into the clearing and spotted a barn – it looked to be about a hundred years old. But it was standing, and it was open, and they only had to clear out three walkers. It was home for now.

Later, they all sat around the fire they had built in the upper level of the barn. Everyone seemed cheerful at this stroke of luck – with the exception of Maggie and Daryl. Maggie had gone off into a dark corner to sleep, according to Glenn. Daryl remained by the fire, picking at bits of leaves and dry mud that had stuck to his shoes.

To his surprise, Noah came over and sat next to him.

"Your shoelaces don't match," Noah said to him abruptly, eyeing the ties on his shoes. Daryl gave a start. He had forgotten about his shoelaces. He looked up at Noah, who was giving him a strange look.

Daryl looked back down at his laces, one black, and the other white.

"Beth's were like that too," Noah said, speaking again. "I remember when they first brought her into Grady, she had some shoelaces tied around her ankle like they were jewelry or something. When they had me change her into scrubs, I put them on her new shoes. Figured they meant something to her."

This was too much for Daryl to hear. He made a gruff noise and stood up. Trying not to call too much attention to himself, he ambled slowly downstairs where he knew he could be alone for a moment.

He couldn't _believe_ he'd forgotten about the laces.

It had been a few days after they burned down the shack. He had completely warmed up to Beth, now happy to be stuck with her. He remembered the day, it had been bright and sunny, and they were sitting in a field of tall grass, both too tired to set up camp just quite yet. Sunshine looked good on Beth. He almost smiled, picturing her sitting there.

She had been rummaging through their backpack, looking for her pen to write in that damn diary of hers. They both had their legs splayed out, enjoying the warmth and the breeze.

"Daryl, you have more shoelaces than anyone could ever need," she had said to him with a smile that tugged at him. She pulled up a tangle of laces. He had started collecting things he thought could be useful every time he killed a walker. In Daryl's mind, shoelaces fell into that category. Collect enough and they could be used as rope.

"Never know what you're gonna need," he'd responded, squinting back at her in the sunlight. She was all yellow and smiles. He watched as she untangled a pair of white laces. They were somehow still immaculate and clean. Beth pulled off her cowboy boot, hiked up her jeans, and tied one around her ankle. She then moved to grab his shoe.

"What're you doing?" he'd asked as she tugged at his filthy shoe. As much as he liked her, Beth Greene was still one big mystery to him.

"You'll see." She grinned at him. He was starting to love that grin.

He watched as she carefully undid the black lace of his shoe, and replaced it with the other white one. She handed him back his shoe. He put it back on as he watched her wrap the old black lace around her ankle, allowing it to tangle with the white one. She looked up and smiled.

"Yin and yang," she said. "It's like you and me. We've both got some good and we've both got some bad. We need to keep each other in check."

Daryl looked down at his shoes and frowned. "I've got a hell of a lot of bad though, Beth."

"Yeah," she'd responded; she was too smart to argue with him. "But you've got a lot of good, too. Only I see it more than you." She paused. "So that's a reminder. Remember that you've got good, and that you've got me to remind you."

Daryl was quiet for a minute. They sat in a comfortable silence. Beth had figured out by now that he wasn't good with words. He didn't really know how to voice the warmth spreading through him. Sure, it was just some old shoelaces, but something about her explanation made it feel like more. It was a promise. It was the first promise Daryl had ever believed in his life.

"Maybe tomorrow I can show you how to use this thing," he'd said abruptly, nodding at his crossbow. "Since you wanted to learn and all."

Beth broke out into the widest smile he'd seen since she had been drunk on moonshine. It was even more blinding than the sunlight.

"Yeah, okay," she'd said, already running her fingers through the newly tied laces at her ankle. Then she'd smoothed down her jeans, pulled her cowboy boot back on, and went back to searching for her pen.

A flash of lighting brought Daryl back to the present. He was looking down at his laces, wondering if she had ever written anything about him in that little green book of hers. He hoped so.

It was quieter in the barn now. He supposed everyone was starting to drift off. He walked over to the rickety old wooden stairs and sat down, appointing himself to be first watch. He could already hear Maggie sniffing in the corner upstairs. But tonight he tried not to be mad at her. Tonight he tried to uphold his promise to Beth, to remember that he still had some good left in him.

_Maybe you gotta keep on reminding me sometimes…._

And she had. She still did.

...

**Just a little add-on for those of you that didn't know, but the shoelace thing wasn't my idea. It was on the show. At one point there's a shot of Beth's shoes as she walks down the halls of Grady and one lace is black and one is white. The same goes for Daryl. If you watch Consumed very carefully, there are shots of him as he walks with Carol and you can see he has his laces tied up around his pants, one black and one white. So I decided to make it a little story :) Thanks for reading and reviewing, I always really appreciate it!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven – Intuition**

She had only been awake for a day, but Beth's mind was already reeling as she sat in her hospital bed and tried to understand what had happened. What was going on?

Dr. Edwards seemed nice enough, but something about him gave her goose bumps. She couldn't place the feeling, but it wasn't a pleasant one. In fact, all day she had been trying to avoid seeing him, often pretending to sleep when he entered her room to check on her. She wanted to be left alone.

Not that it was hard – almost everyone at Grady Memorial seemed afraid to talk to her. She couldn't understand it. The wards wouldn't look her in the eye when they spoke to her. At first she thought they were afraid to look at her because of her head wound, but she quickly realized that there was something more to it.

She wished she could talk to Morgan, but it seemed like that would have to wait until the next day when she could finally stretch her legs and leave her room. She was surprised that he hadn't come to sit with her in her hospital room after she woke up. What had he been doing this past week while she had recovered? Hadn't he been happy to hear she was finally getting better? It seemed strange of him to ignore her. So she had yet another uneasy feeling in her stomach.

Beth had had plenty of visitors. Many of the visits had been odd; a ward in scrubs similar to hers would walk in quickly, look at her wide-eyed, say a quick hello, and then dart back out the door. This had happened on multiple occasions throughout the day. Beth was starting to feel like a zoo animal.

She had also been visited by two police officers. Officers Shepherd and Licari. Officer Shepherd had been very kind and comforting. She had explained that the hospital was running on a certain type of system. The wards were brought in by officers, often on their death beds. If Dr. Edwards was able to save them, they would then work in the hospital to pay off their debt. Hospital jobs included keeping the officers happy, cleaning, cooking, and assisting Dr. Edwards. She then went on to tell Beth to report to the cafeteria the next day, as her job would be delivering food to patients.

Officer Licari had remained silent through Shepherd's speech. Beth felt uneasy when he looked at her. He seemed to be glaring at her, his fingers curled into fists. He was a large, beefy, balding man who looked more like a predator than anything else. Beth was afraid of him. She had decided to be afraid of him from the moment he had walked into her room with Officer Shepherd. She would try to avoid him, too. Her list of people to avoid seemed to be growing by the minute.

Beth's red flags had been going up all day. But she felt useless without her memory – as if there was something she could find in her mind that could help her understand her own intuition.

_Don't be silly, Greene, they saved your life_, she thought to herself as she lay on her side in bed, staring at a poster of a clock that read _Get Well Soon!_ Each number on the clock had been replaced with the word "NOW." Even the damn clock seemed angry at her. Tomorrow would have to be a better day. Tomorrow she could talk to Morgan.

Beth closed her eyes and tried to put her mind at rest. Sleep overcame her quickly.

…

When Beth awoke it took her a moment to regroup and remember where she was. The room was grey, filled with a dull light from the small window in the corner. It was raining outside. No, it was _pouring_ outside – a storm seemed to be on the horizon. Beth was sure there would be thunder and lightning by dusk. Maybe it was lucky she was stuck inside after all.

She sat up and looked around. Someone had placed a pair of black canvas sneakers in the corner of the room for her. She reached for them and started to put them on absentmindedly. She would find Morgan today, she would work off her debt, and they would leave to find his group. Beth felt guilty – they were now more than a week behind the group, and tracking them would prove much more difficult. But she was grateful that Morgan had found help for her. The dull aching in her head was nothing compared to the searing pain she had felt last week while out on the road. She looked down at her shoes and for a moment her heart stopped.

Her laces didn't match. One was black, the other white. A panic rose in Beth, a panic unlike any other she had felt so far. It suddenly felt as though the entire room had begun to close in on her – like she was in the wrong place surrounded by the wrong people. That homesick feeling she had been fighting crashed down around her with such a force, she almost cried out. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep breaking down at the sight of random objects? Beth couldn't contain her sadness, and she let it wash over her for a moment, all the while staring at the mysterious laces that had started it all.

Her own mind was a mystery to her. Beth Greene mystified herself. And she hated herself for it.

She reached down into her pockets to pull out her ladybug figurine, before realizing that she no longer had pockets. She no longer had the figurine. She wiped away her tears as she quickly stood up and spun about the room, looking for her old clothes.

_No_, she thought to herself, over and over again in a panic. She couldn't have lost it. It was her most prized possession. Someone important had left it for her, it was her only anchor, her only tie to the world she had lived in before her memory went to shit. Beth was so distracted in trying to find her wooden ladybug that she didn't hear the door slide open.

"Ahem," Beth heard the sound of a throat clearing and spun around.

"I was coming to see if you were ready to head to the cafeteria."

It was a ward. She was much older than Beth, probably in her mid fifties, with a harsh face and graying hair. But she didn't look Beth in the eye. Beth didn't blame her - she knew she probably looked wild. Her eyes were bloodshot from the tears she hadn't realized had been spilling.

"If you're looking for something, maybe I can help you find it?"

The ward looked up at Beth's face now, unsure of what to do. Beth took a deep breath, wiped her eyes, and nodded.

"I had a couple of things in my pockets before I got here that I want back," she explained.

"You'll probably find them in the laundry room – that's where all of our clothes and belongings are kept," the woman responded slowly. "My name is Marianne, by the way."

"Thanks, Marianne. I'm Beth."

"I know," the ward responded absentmindedly. Beth shot her a quizzical look.

Marianne's eyes widened suddenly and she quickly blurted out, "Dr. Edwards told us all about you. We all know your name."

"Oh," Beth responded. That uneasy feeling was back. "Okay, well I guess I'm ready to go to the cafeteria with you."

"This way," Marianne said, and then she was out the door. Beth followed quickly. She was surprised by how much energy she had – walking was no longer too painful or too difficult.

As she followed Marianne down the hall, Beth spotted Officer Licari walking in their direction. She gathered her courage and called out to him quickly.

"Officer Licari, where's my friend? His name is Morgan, he's the man who brought me here."

Officer Licari stopped and looked at her. His expression seemed molded onto his face. "Morgan is currently being treated for his injuries. He sustained quite a few over the past few weeks that needed some looking at. He'll be resting, and I don't want him to be disturbed. You can see him in a few days."

Beth hardly caught it, but a look passed between Marianne and Officer Licari. Marianne looked down, suddenly. "Come on Beth, we have work to do."

She practically dragged Beth down the hall and into a room at the end. Officer Licari had stopped and watched them until they rounded the corner into the cafeteria. Something about him was menacing. Beth didn't like it.

Beth's confusion was back stronger than ever. What injuries had Licari been talking about? Morgan had been fine, he'd told her so himself. Unless something had happened to him while he was trying to save her life – Beth's guilt returned worse than ever. She hoped he was all right. She really wanted to see him. She needed to thank him, and she wanted to reassure him that they would get back on track as soon as possible. Beth owed him everything.

"Beth!" Marianne called out to her from across the room. Everyone was staring. Beth made her way over to Marianne and another ward. "This is Kira, she'll be giving you trays to deliver to patients today."

Beth nodded at the younger ward. Marianne stalked off to talk to someone else.

"You'll be doing these deliveries for about a week, and then you'll graduate to my job," Kira said to Beth quickly. "I've only been here for a few weeks myself."

Beth's ears perked up at this. Something about this sounded wrong.

"A few weeks? And you haven't paid off your debt yet?"

Kira shook her head. "I'm not strong enough to be out there on my own, even if I had paid off what I owed. It's safer for me here. Besides, most of the wards in the hospital have been here for months at least."

Beth didn't like the sound of that. She wanted out of the hospital as soon as possible. She hoped it wouldn't take her weeks.

"You want my advice?" Kira said to her quietly as she placed a bread roll and some canned soup on a tray, "eat as little as possible. And try not to use the facilities much. It all adds up and you owe even more than what you started with."

"Why are you telling me this?" Beth asked under her breath.

"Because you seem like a survivor. You're stronger than most of us. I can tell, they all can tell. Get out of here when you can," the girl responded. Beth noticed Marianne returning.

"Now this tray is for a patient in room 510," Kira said loudly, "there will be two beds in that room, make sure you don't disturb the other patient. He'll have a curtain around his bed, don't move it. Go up two floors and turn left. And stay away from the fourth floor, it's off limits to us right now."

Beth nodded at her and headed out. She spotted Officer Licari again, but this time he was talking to a group of other officers in hushed voices. She caught the words "elevator shaft" and "just woke up" as she neared them, but the group fell silent as she walked past. They were all looking at her.

When she finally reached 510, everything was quiet. She realized the fifth floor had essentially become the ICU. Each room she walked past seemed to hold someone who was near death, or completely comatose.

She quickly turned the handle and walked inside. Kira was right, there were two patients, but there was no curtain around any bed. She wasn't sure who to leave the food for. She decided to leave the tray on a side table next to the bed on the left. In it, a man with dark hair and a calm face seemed to be dozing.

Beth noticed a badge on the table – he must have been one of the officers who somehow got hurt. After placing down the tray, Beth quietly lifted the badge and opened it. It said his name was Officer O'Donnell. Beth wondered what had happened to him.

"You, girl, what are you doing?" she heard the man, Officer O'Donnell say quietly in a weak voice behind her. Beth turned to look at him. His eyes widened.

Then everything went to hell.

"BETH? WHAT THE FUCK ARE _YOU_ DOING IN HERE?! STAY AWAY FROM ME! HELP! SHE'S TRYING TO KILL ME AGAIN! SOMEBODY HELP! _HELP ME_!"

Beth was out of the room faster than she thought her two legs could carry her. She raced down the hallway, her mind reeling, and threw herself into the stairwell, running down blindly.

_That man knew my name. He was afraid of me. He thought I was trying to kill him. Again? What the hell is going on? How did he know me?!_

Beth flung herself through the first door she could find before stopping at the scene in front of her. She was on the fourth floor. It was empty. But as she looked around, she could feel her stomach churning, could feel sickness threatening to take hold.

It looked like a war zone. There were bullet holes in the walls, and blood everywhere. In her mind's eye, Beth saw a flash of leather. Wings on a leather vest.

Beth blinked and the blood disappeared. She stepped closer towards the walls, her head spinning. The bullet holes were still there. Something had happened here. Something so terrible it had stirred up a memory. White wings on a leather vest. Blood everywhere.

She felt like she was going to throw up again. Beth plummeted down the hallway as fast as she could, and she practically threw herself into the first supply closet she could find. Gray Memorial Hospital wasn't safe for her. She was sure of it.

...

**So I snuck the title of episode 5x09 in there just for fun, see if you can spot it :) I hope y'all enjoyed this first part of Beth back at Grady! More to come! Also to those of you who are sending me wonderful comments as guests, thank you so much! I would reply to you if I could. I promise you that I'll keep updating until this story is finished! I have so many chapters planned out in my head, I just have to write them down... thanks for reading everyone!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 - My Old Man**

The next night in the barn, everything went to hell and back.

It started out all right. The barn was warm enough, the group was cheerful enough, and everyone left Daryl to his thoughts – as per usual. The rain hadn't let up, so they'd been cooped up in the barn the whole day. Daryl tried sitting with the group around the makeshift fire Tara had started in a trash bin they'd found nearby, but he couldn't stand to hear them telling jokes. Not now. Maybe not ever. So he went off to his own corner to try and keep the noises out.

It didn't work. Try as he might, he couldn't help but hear everyone. He couldn't help but hear Michonne start to hum to herself. He knew the tune – knew it by default. She was humming a Joni Mitchell song, and suddenly Daryl couldn't breathe again. He closed his eyes to drown out the sound, but he could physically feel himself being pulled back there – back to the funeral home, back to more memories of Beth.

He could practically feel the coffin beneath his back again. He had joked to her that it was the comfiest bed he'd had in years. She'd smiled at him before going back to playing the piano, a smile that he'd started getting used to receiving. It made him feel like he'd won a contest, and he could hear the sound of his own heartbeat echoing loudly in his head at the sight of it. Of her. Sitting there, playing that damn old piano.

He didn't remember nodding off in that coffin, but he did remember waking up to a familiar song. It had invaded his dreams and slowly roused him from slumber:

_My old man, he's a singer in the park_

_He's a walker in the rain_

_He's a dancer in the dark_

_We don't need no piece of paper from the city hall_

_Keeping us tied and true_

_No, my old man_

_Keeping away my lonesome blues_

"Joni Mitchell," he'd said matter-of-factly, staring at the ceiling.

Beth jumped, clearly startled by the sound of his voice. She turned around and cocked her eyebrows at him.

"You don't seem like the Joni Mitchell type, Mr. Dixon," she replied, a teasing tone making it's way into her voice. "Besides, I thought you were out cold, figured it was the best time to practice the one song I'm still terrible at."

"Sounds nice," he'd responded. When she continued to look at him questioningly, he sighed and sat up. "My mom, before she went too far off the rails, she used to sing that song to us. To me and Merle, when we were kids. I always liked it. Think Merle did too."

Beth beamed at him. It was a rare smile, her secret smile. It was reserved for the moments when he opened up to her like this. Daryl had slowly begun realizing that Beth was easy to talk to – about everything. She loved hearing about his past, even when he had nothing but boring memories to share. She always made him feel heard – he no longer felt uninteresting around this woman. Daryl couldn't remember a time where he had spoken more than he had in the past few weeks with Beth. She made it easy.

"I always liked it, too," Beth said. "I'm sorry I couldn't sing it better for you, there's not much time to practice these things anymore. As you can see, I'm a busy woman."

Daryl let out a gruff chuckle. Beth had a great sense of humor. He hadn't expected it, but it was a pleasant surprise. "You're doin' just fine. It sounds good."

Beth was still smiling at him. So without bothering to think about it, Daryl smiled right back. She let out what sounded like a content sigh and turned back around. "Well, I hope you really love this song 'cuz I plan on playing it until I get it right."

She turned back to the keys and started again.

Daryl nestled back into his new bed. "I dunno if you want me to clap or not, since I never been to a concert before. "

"There's a first time for everything," she'd replied with a laugh.

Daryl opened his eyes again. Michonne was still humming, and he couldn't listen to it anymore. He never wanted to listen to that song again, not if Beth wasn't around to sing it.

He stood up and decided to head back downstairs. He could find solace there in the dark. Maybe even try to sleep for once.

He realized his mistake the moment he set foot on the ground and came face to face with Maggie. She'd clearly had the same idea as him. Her face was tear-stained and gaunt. She looked at him, completely startled.

"Oh, it's you," she'd said. "I can leave if you want." She wiped her nose on her sleeve.

He didn't know if it was the lack of sleep, the constant reminiscing, or the fact that he hadn't faced her yet, but Daryl was overcome by a searing anger.

"Yeah, you'd better fuckin' leave then," he growled suddenly, surprising even himself.

Maggie stared at him. "I know you're mad at me, Daryl. I can see it, I feel it every time you look at me. Can we talk about it?"

"You wanna talk about it? You think I'm pissed? After you didn't bother to give two shits about your own sister? After you fuckin' up and left for DC without a second's hesitation? After I told you she was alive and she needed us? Needed you? You think I blame you for all that? Well holy shit, maybe you're not fucking senseless after all."

Daryl hadn't said this many sentences in a row since before _it_ happened. But he was on a roll now, he couldn't stop himself:

"She was _alone_, Maggie. She was alive, she was alone, and you didn't give a fuck. Do you remember when the governor took you and Glenn? Remember that? Know who was first in fucking line to go save your useless ass? _SHE WAS. BETH WAS THE FIRST FUCKING VOLUNTEER TO SAVE YOUR LIFE AND YOU LEFT HER TO FUCKING DIE."_

Tears were streaming down his face, and in the back of his mind, Daryl realized this was the first time he had said her name since it all happened. But he didn't have time to think about it, because Maggie exploded at him.

_"I THOUGHT SHE WAS DEAD, DARYL. I JUST LOST MY DAD, I HAVEN'T GOTTEN OVER THAT, AND I THOUGHT SHE WAS DEAD. I DIDN'T BELIEVE YOU, I COULDN'T BELIEVE YOU. I COULDN'T BRING MY HOPES UP LIKE THAT JUST TO SEE THEM FUCKING DESTROYED ALL OVER AGAIN. I COULDN'T HANDLE THE PAIN AGAIN_."

Daryl opened his mouth to retort, but Maggie surprised him by pushing him violently backwards with both hands.

"_YOU SAID SHE WAS TAKEN AND NOWADAYS TAKEN IS A GOOD AS FUCKING DEAD. WE BOTH KNOW IT. IT WAS EASIER TO BELIEVE SHE WAS DEAD BECAUSE ALL HOPE I EVER FUCKING HAD FOR ANYTHING DIED THE DAY MY DAD WAS DECAPITATED IN FRONT OF ME AND I COULDN'T DO IT ALL AGAIN_._ I THOUGHT SHE WAS DEAD, I EVEN THOUGHT SHE WAS BETTER OFF BECAUSE THAT'S THE PIECE OF SHIT PERSON THAT I'VE BECOME._"

She broke down in front of him. Daryl was speechless. Hot tears were still spilling from his eyes, but he barely noticed them. He had hated her. He had hated Maggie, he had felt it down to the tips of his toes, and he had wanted her dead. He had even wished it had been her instead. And it horrified him. But her excuses weren't enough for him either. He couldn't just forgive her, could he? Too many conflicting emotions buzzed around inside his head. Maggie was sobbing now.

"You think I don't blame myself, Daryl? You think I don't spend every night awake wishing it was me instead? You think I don't go over every second of the last three weeks in my head and think about how I could have done it all differently? You think I don't see her every time I close my eyes and try to breathe? Maybe I could have saved her. Maybe if I had gone with you it would have been different… Maybe my baby sister would be here smiling and singing and – and -…"

But she didn't finish her sentence. She couldn't. Daryl could see it in her face – no one hated Maggie more than she hated herself. He knew that feeling well. And he felt a twinge of sympathy for her.

_I miss Maggie, I miss her bossin' me around._

He could hear Beth again in his head. She wouldn't have wanted any of this. She would have wanted Maggie to be happy, she would have wanted Daryl to forgive her. He had to try, if not for himself and for Maggie, then in honor of Beth. He looked around and saw Maggie plant herself on the dirty ground. Her shoulders were shaking and she was facing the wall.

He walked over to her and sat down beside her silently, saying nothing. He'd forgotten in his anger that Maggie was feeling a lot like him. He'd been blessed to have a few weeks with Beth, to feel her warmth and strength and love. But Maggie grew up with her. They both lost Beth, and with the loss of Beth, Maggie had lost a sister – Daryl knew something about the loss of a sibling.

As he sat in silence with Maggie and his thoughts, Daryl felt her head droop down onto his shoulder. He didn't move. It seemed the Greene girls didn't care much for personal space. But he didn't really mind.

"Thank you," she said to him quietly.

Daryl remained silent. But he didn't move away. He could feel a warm tear drop onto his shoulder.

"Thank you for being with her, for watching out for her. Thanks for making her happy, I know you must have. I've been watching, I can see how you feel. We lost our girl, and I don't know what to do without her, Daryl."

"Me neither," he said quietly.

Maggie grasped his hand and squeezed it for a second before sitting back up to face him. She smiled a watery smile at him. Maybe he didn't hate her so much after all.

"Did I ever tell you about the time she found pot in my bedroom? I was maybe 17, experimenting and causing trouble, but she was still a little kid, didn't know nothing about it. But she found this little baggie filled with green stuff in my drawer and decided to use it in her kitchen stew. She liked to pretend to be a chef, back when she was little. She'd make these nasty stews out of anything she could find in the kitchen and force us all to take a bite. This time she made a stew out of a few sticks of butter, a couple of raw eggs, a whole bottle of canola oil and my pot. Lucky for me, I was her first 'customer,' so when she pulled it out of her pocket to garnish her stew I saw what it was. But Bethy didn't know, so I had to make up some story about how it was magical oregano from the garden that gave you superpowers, and it should only be used on Italian food. So when she went downstairs to grab a can of Spaghetti-O's I flushed it down the toilet quick and told her that I'd eaten it all because I was too hungry to wait for her to bring up the food. She waited hours in my room to see if I would start flyin' or turn invisible, but I never did. She was so disappointed, but she told all her friends about the magic oregano and they spent the next month looking for more in the garden. Killed all of the roses our daddy had tried to grow. I don't think I ever smoked weed again. Too much of a hassle with that nosy kid."

Maggie was crying again. "God, I love her so much."

_Me too_, Daryl thought to himself unexpectedly. He smiled at the thought of little Beth, probably dressed head to toe in frills and lace. What a little troublemaker she must have been. What a powerful creature she had become.

A sudden knock at the barn door had them both scrambling to their feet. They both rushed to the door, peering through the cracks. Daryl cursed under his breath. It was a horde of walkers. He couldn't tell how many, but just as he thought they might pass by without any trouble, the group upstairs erupted in a loud, ridiculous laughter.

"Shit," he heard Maggie say next to him as a few walkers turned their heads and began to walk towards the door. It didn't look strong enough to keep a horde of them out.

"Go get everyone," he said to her urgently. "Make sure they bring their weapons. We might need 'em."

The door banged violently as a few walkers slammed up against it.

"Go!" he said again, loudly. Maggie nodded, wide-eyed and ran up the stairs and out of sight.

It was going to be a bad night.

...

**Hey guys! I'm so sorry I took so long to update! It's been a busy few weeks for me, but I promise not to ever forget about this story! I'll update whenever I can until it's finished! Also last week's episode of TWD really upset me (and I don't want to spoil it for anyone) but that really big thing that happened isn't going to happen in my story. All of Team Family (from Coda onward) is still alive and well in my story. Also I really wanted to deal with the Maggie dilemma in this chapter. I know a lot of you hate her, and I don't blame you! I hope you still like my story, but I wanted to redeem her because I used to adore her and I wanted to finally forgive her for the bad writing the Walking Dead writers put her through last season. And she's Beth's sister after all so I just can't bring myself to hate her. Anyway thanks for reading and liking and following and commenting! You are all awesome! Back to Beth next chapter!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – Enlightenment**

She had been there before.

There were so many things that Beth Greene didn't know about herself, but she was sure of one thing. She had been at Grady Memorial before.

She wasn't safe here. She could feel it in her gut. That officer in the hospital room had known her. He knew her name – he even _feared_ her.

Come to think of it, everyone here seemed to walk on eggshells around her. It made sense, the weird glances, the awkward whispers, the fact that everyone avoided her. They knew her. But she didn't know them.

_DAMN IT_, she thought to herself, over and over again. If only she could _remember_. She was in danger and she couldn't even remember why! Or how! She had to get out. She had to find Morgan and get out immediately – this much was clear to her.

So Beth Greene stood up off of the overturned bucket she had just spent the last 10 minutes sitting on. She was still in the supply closet on the fourth floor. She took a few deep breaths, and began to think.

She had been in hospitals before, back when the world had been a sane place to live in. She knew that for the most part, every floor should have a similar layout – at least the floors with rooms for patients. But she needed an escape route – a solid plan that lead her right out of the hospital without anyone noticing. How the hell would she pull off something like that? If she was right and she had been here before, then she was most likely being watched 24/7. In fact, she wondered how the hell she would explain being gone this long.

She took a deep breath and made a decision. She would lie. If she w as asked about the screaming police officer, she would lie and say he was asleep when she entered the room, and she didn't hear him scream. It must have happened after she left. She would continue to play dumb. Yes, that was the plan. It wasn't particularly good, but what other option did she have?

Beth turned to leave the closet before stopping a moment and changing her mind. She turned quickly and grabbed one of the mops leaning against the wall. It was an old fashioned mop, with a wooden handle. She grasped it with both hands and braced herself for the impact as she swiftly broke the long piece of wood in half using her leg. It hurt like hell, but at least now she had a weapon of sorts. The wood had splintered pretty perfectly, leaving her with a small, but very sharp stake. She stuffed it quickly into the waistband of her pants and prayed that the small bump under her shirt would go unnoticed.

As Beth left the room, she stopped to look around the fourth floor again for a moment. Her mind had stopped playing tricks on her, sure, but there were still massive bullet holes in the wall and the corridor was deserted. Subconsciously, her hand moved to cover the bandage that was protecting her head wound. She had to get off this floor.

….

As Beth entered the cafeteria, a hush came about the room. She pretended not to notice as she made her way back over to Kira, who was looking at her wide-eyed.

"Why's it so quiet in here?" Beth asked her loudly, loud enough for everyone to hear it, but not loud enough to be suspicious.

"Beth, what happened when you delivered that food?"

Beth could see Officer Lipari out of the corner of her eye, standing at the edge of the room, his hand hovering close to his gun.

"What do you mean? I just set down the tray and left. I think that poor guy was in a coma, I don't know why you'd send me to bring him food."

"But then, why have you been gone so long?" Kira still had a fearful look on her face.

"Oh! Well…this is kinda embarrassing but… well it's my time of the month and it kinda snuck up on me since I've been out cold for a while. So I could feel…you know…an _accident_ about to happen and I had to deal with it. But I didn't know where you guys keep all of your…uh…sanitary materials. So I had to go looking for them! Crisis averted though!"

Beth grinned at Kira sheepishly. _Not bad_, she thought to herself. Officer Lipari seemed pretty satisfied with the story. Beth saw the back of his bald head as he walked swiftly and quietly out the door. _Men_, she thought to herself, _start talking about girl stuff and they're out the door in a flash_. She was feeling pretty proud of her cover story.

"Beth….what's that?" Kira asked in a low voice, pointing at Beth's shirt. A piece of the mop handle was peeking out.

_Shit_, thought Beth, her mind spinning.

"Oh!" Beth said with a smile and a whisper, "I found something really cool when I was looking for tampons, but I don't think I'm allowed to have it. Let's go to the bathroom, I'll show you!" She giggled, just for good measure.

Kira's eyes lit up. "Ooh I wanna see! Come on, the bathroom on this floor is this way."

Beth followed Kira down the hallways and into a bathroom. It was a single private bathroom with a lock on the door. Beth thanked her lucky stars as Kira moved to lock the door.

Beth grabbed the girl quickly by the back of her shirt and slammed her up against the wall, pulling the wooden stake out of her waistband to hold up against the girl's neck.

"Scream and I'll stab you, don't think I won't," Beth said quickly, as Kira opened her mouth in horror.

"Beth… Beth what the hell? Why are you doing this? Please, I don't want to die…" Kira's eyes filled with water, and Beth felt an immense amount of guilt. Kira wasn't the problem.

"Look, I don't want to hurt you. I like you, you seem like a nice person. But I need to get out of here as soon as possible, and I can't have anyone ruining my plans. So I need you to tell me a few things."

Kira slowly raised her hands above her head. "Okay. Okay, Beth. Whatever you need to know I'll try to tell you. I wanted to get out of here at first too! But please…please put that thing down."

Beth looked Kira in the eye for a long moment. Then she made a decision that she hoped wouldn't cost her her life – she lowered the stake.

"Th-th-thank you!" Kira blubbered loudly.

"Shhhh you need to be _quiet_, Kira!" Beth said again, more menacingly than she intended.

"Okay! Okay, I'm sorry! You just really scared me is all! Beth what's going on? I'm so confused."

"I didn't get my period. I went to deliver that stupid tray and that cop guy woke up and started screaming about me. Kira, I need you to tell me what you know about me. Has anyone mentioned anything about me to you?"

"Beth, I've only been here a week. No one trusts me enough to talk to me about anything! No, I've never seen you before! I don't know what you're talking about!"

Beth believed her. Kira was new, and if Beth had been here before it must have been before Kira had gotten here.

"Okay," Beth said slowly, "okay, now I want you to tell me everything you know about the fourth floor. Why are there bullet holes in the walls?"

"I don't really know the whole story, just what a couple of the wards told me. Apparently there was a ward here who was part of another group but got split off from them. And the officers found her close to death on the side of the road and they brought her in and saved her. Only her group was looking for her. There used to be this lady cop in charge here, Dawn was her name, I think. Apparently Dawn didn't like being told what to do, so when the group came to take back their friend, the exchange went down kinda badly and Dawn accidentally shot the ward. So then one of the guys from the group shot Dawn. That's all I know. Dawn's body got thrown down the elevator shaft with the rest of them, and I guess the other group musta taken the girl because the guys who told me the story didn't know what happened to her." Dawn took a deep breath after telling her story.

Beth tried to do the same, but found her breath caught in her throat. She was the ward. _She_ must have been the ward that got shot! It made sense, it made so much more sense than anything else in the world. Why else would everyone be looking at her like that? Why else would they all know her name!

"Beth, you look like you're having a heart attack."

Beth looked at Kira. "Kira, I think that was me. I think I was the ward."

Kira just looked at her blankly.

"What the fuck?"

"Kira, think about it. I came in with a bullet hole through my brain. Everyone keeps avoiding me and not looking at me. The officers all look at me funny. That officer up in the room, the one who was in the coma, he knew my name! I think I might have accidentally almost killed him when I tried to get out last time I was here! You're the only person who's been nice to me, because you're the only person here who didn't know that I've been here before! Holy shit, Kira it all makes sense!"

Kira's eyes were wider than dinner plates. "Beth, I wish I could say you were nuts, but you're actually making a lot of sense and it's freaking me out."

"I have to get out of here as soon as I can," Beth said, more to herself than to Kira. "I need to find the people I was with. He doesn't know I'm alive!"

"He?" Kira asked.

"Did I say he?" Beth surprised herself. She had meant to be talking about her group, whoever they had been.

"You definitely said _he_."

"I think there was someone…I don't know how to explain it because I can't _remember_... but there's someone who I need to get back to, I think. I think there's someone who needs me. Or who I need. I don't really know, not remembering anything has really messed me up."

Kira was looking at her with a funny expression on her face. She looked like she was ready to cry again.

"Beth, if someone out there needs you, you need to get out of here. They'll never let you leave on your own, not after what happened. Not if you're right."

Kira surprised her. The last thing Beth had expected was sympathy from the woman she had just threatened to kill with a homemade stake. She took a step back, essentially unpinning Kira from the wall, and looked at her quizzically.

"Before I came to Grady, a long time before, I was married. I had a great guy for a husband. But we got separated. It hurts to talk about, but we basically never saw each other again, because by the time I found him, he was dead. And I wouldn't wish something like that on my worst enemies. So if there's someone out there who cares about you and thinks you're dead, you need to find him. You need to find him fast."

There were definitely tears in Kira's eyes now.

"Beth, I have an idea. Remember when I told you about Dawn? How they dumped her body down the elevator shaft? You can access the elevator shaft from every floor. It leads to a basement at the bottom, which I'm pretty sure has a way out. No one tries, though, because the officers told us that the zombies are everywhere down there. But I've just seen how fast you can move. If anyone can get through it, you can."

Kira was Beth's new favorite person.

"You should come with me," Beth said. "My friend, Morgan, he's great with a gun. We have to find him and get him out of here with us. I don't know what they did to him, but finding him is priority number one. I owe him the world. I should have known something was up the minute that bold cop told me I couldn't see him."

"Okay," Kira said. "Okay. No one really suspects you of anything right now. So we go out there, pretend nothing has happened, and I'll go looking for Morgan. The officers trust me…we have an, uh, we have an agreement. I can find him for you."

Beth looked at Kira, wondering what exactly this "agreement" could be, while knowing deep down exactly what she meant. Beth shuddered. This place was horrible.

"Don't you judge me, Beth. I do what I need to survive. Just like you. This is a new world we live in, one where girls like you and me need to bargain with what we have, and sometimes threaten people in bathrooms with stakes."

"Not for much longer," Beth promised her. "I'm getting you out of here. I wish there was a way I could take this place down when I leave."

"There's a lot of good people here, too, Beth. All of the wards are like you and me. Doing what they have to to live."

Beth nodded. Still, she wished she could take this place out. But she had a new mission: find Morgan.

"Okay, I'm gonna keep on delivering food, but I need you to find out what happened to Morgan. Can you manage that?"

Kira smiled at her, "Hell yes I can manage that. Let's do this."

….

Morgan, as it turned out, was being kept in room 307 on the third floor. Kira had said that Dr. Edwards had been keeping him comatose with a concoction of medical supplies. Apparently, the cops hadn't really known what to do with him. When he arrived, he had been concerned for Beth, but quickly became too rowdy and hard to control, so they didn't know what else to do.

Beth didn't know what she felt more. Anger at Dr. Edwards and the officers for what they had done to her friend, or guilt over knowing that his fate had been inadvertently caused by her. The only thing she knew was that she had to get him out.

That night, as everyone went to bed, Beth slipped out of her room. She was happy to find that she was no longer locked in – it seemed the Grady cops hadn't found her out yet. In their eyes, she was still harmless.

Maneuvering around the night patrol wasn't easy, but Beth had brought with her a couple of bars of chocolate and a handful of strawberries from the cafeteria to bribe the wards on guard. She found herself in room 307 in no time. It seemed she had been pretty well-liked by most of the wards here, and they were happy to try and help her escape. Again, apparently. She didn't have much time to stop and find out what they knew about her though, so she plowed on.

And there he was, her best friend in the whole world, lying completely unconscious in his bed, a steady drip from an IV keeping him under.

Beth walked over to Morgan and yanked the needle out of his arm as gently as she could. She didn't know how long she'd have to wait for him to wake up. She hoped it wouldn't be more than a few hours – her plan to escape needed to happen before people started waking up. Kira was secretly making a rope out of bed sheets this very minute. They didn't have much time.

After locking the door, Beth sat down in the chair next to the bed, keeping her wooden stake in her left hand, just in case she needed it. She looked at Morgan. He seemed so peaceful. She almost envied him, out cold, totally oblivious to the shit-storm happening around him.

_No_, she thought, correcting herself. _I was out cold, I was shot. I was dead. This is better._

"Open your eyes," she said to him. "Morgan, open your eyes."

She grabbed his hand.

"I know you're in there Morgan. You're a fighter. I need you to open your eyes!"

His hand twitched.

"Morgan, _open your eyes so I can help you_."

….

**Hey everyone! I hope you liked this chapter! Beth finally knows! This is sort of a filler chapter, it's full of exposition, but it had to happen sometime, right? Anyway the next chapter is back to Daryl. Also, did anyone notice how similar my last chapter was to episode 10? Because I did. (Just a little bit similar, but I was still really proud of myself). Anyway, thanks for reading! I promise they will reunite eventually, I'm just dragging it out a bit! Please leave your comments and reviews! Your feedback is really appreciated!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – Signs**

The horde was massive – Daryl wasn't sure how many there were, but he knew they were lucky to be fighting them off in a storm. The storm seemed to be doing half of the work - whenever lighting cracked off in the distance, the doors that he and the rest of the group were struggling to keep closed seemed lighter. It seemed to distract the walkers.

Not that the group didn't have their work cut out for them. As soon as Maggie had called down the rest of the family, they had been piling anything they could find up against the wooden barn doors. It was an old barn, and everyone was worried that it wouldn't hold.

"_We need to make a barricade with our bodies_," Abraham had shouted over the noise, and Daryl knew he was right. The weight of them all was the only thing that would keep them alive. So for approximately 3 hours, they pushed themselves up against the barn doors and held on for dear life.

It was one of the longest nights any of them had ever experienced. By sunrise, most of the horde had wandered off. Daryl and Tyreese slipped out of the barn together to finish off the few stragglers left behind while the rest of the group stood watch in case they needed help. When they returned inside, Daryl noticed that Carl had fallen asleep on the dirty ground, cradling his sister. Poor kid hadn't had a chance to rest all night. The group needed sleep.

He walked over to Rick.

"We're gonna need food soon. Imma go see what I can find."

Rick nodded at him slowly. They hardly needed to talk anymore – it was all silently understood. "Michonne and I will keep watch, but I think the rest of us are gonna sleep. Maybe you should get some rest first, Daryl."

Daryl shook his head. He hadn't rested in weeks – there was no way he could just start now. Plus he didn't want to be reminded of her right now – she always appeared in his dreams when he did manage to finally close his eyes. But dream Beth didn't come close to real Beth – and real Beth was gone. He couldn't do that to himself today. Today he had to worry about keeping everyone else alive. Today he could finally take some time to himself and sit in the woods surrounded by the trees and concentrate on life rather than death. He was exhausted, that was true. But this needed to be done.

So he set out. He didn't have to walk far to suddenly find himself surrounded by woods again. It was beautiful out. The forest was sparkling – Daryl always loved the way the earth looked after a storm. It was rejuvenated, greener, peaceful and flourishing. But he didn't find himself enjoying it now: everything that once made him happy seemed out of place in this new world where Beth was gone. As if with her she had taken all of the beauty there ever was and ever would be.

He heard a sharp crack behind him and whirled around. His heart stopped in his chest for a moment as he thought he saw a blur of blonde hair rush past through a small clearing in the distance.

_Come and find me, Daryl_.

He heard it clear as day. In a forlorn space between awake and asleep, Daryl Dixon ran at a solid sprint towards the mirage of Beth that he was convinced he had spotted. His heart began to beat again, faster, louder, more desperate than ever before. He had to find her. He had to catch her. She would not slip through his fingers, not this time. Not again.

Daryl reached the clearing and twisted about in a panicked flourish. His crossbow crashed painfully into his back again and again, as he spun this way and that to find her. He stilled. Slowly he came back to his senses. He was imagining things. He had to be. How long had it been since he'd slept? Since he'd eaten? He was starting to lose touch with reality.

_Maybe it's better this way_, he thought to himself crazily. _Maybe if I go nuts, I won't remember she's gone. Maybe I'll just die, picturin' her next to me the whole time. That would be nice._

But before he had time to process this new insanity, he heard the cracking once again. Much closer this time. He stood completely still and didn't move. It wasn't a walker, it couldn't be. It didn't move like one, didn't sound like one either. But something had been fast enough, silent enough to sneak up on him. Which was almost impossible. He moved his head slowly, his body following.

It was a fawn.

Daryl's breath caught in his throat again, because there it was, looking up at him with eyes so big they pierced his soul. No other creature had ever looked at him like this before, no other creature besides _her_. They stood there, animal and man, for a solid minute, staring.

And then the moment was over and the fawn was gone, scampering excitedly off into the brush and out of sight.

Still, Daryl didn't move. He couldn't. He was having a hard time seeing, in fact, because his eyes had filled with tears. For the first time since she left him, he was crying again.

And then he was sobbing, his voice wracked with guilt, with pain, with loss, with everything he couldn't say out loud. He had come to the woods to find solace and instead found release. And so he lowered himself down to the muddy ground, covered his head with his arms and let everything out, the trees his only witness.

…

Some time later, Daryl wasn't sure how much later, he returned to the barn with a few rabbits and a squirrel. There hadn't been much to catch, but he knew even these tiny morsels of food would help.

The sun was high in the sky as he approached the barn, but he grew weary when he noticed that no one was standing guard by the doors. He approached cautiously, trying not to panic, trying to scope out the situation. He could hear Rick's voice inside. He breathed a sigh of release and pushed open one of the doors.

He had hardly stepped foot inside when suddenly he was faced with a mouthful of hair. Maggie had flung her arms around him almost immediately when she spotted him, and he was trapped in a tight hug he neither wanted to be in, nor knew how to get out of.

"We were getting' worried about you," she said after releasing him. "I'm glad nothin' happened." She smiled shakily at him. "I'm glad you're okay."

Daryl looked at her confusedly, before noticing the rest of the atmosphere in the barn. It was tense. He looked past Maggie's shoulder to the center of the barn. A strange man was tied to one of the many wooden poles keeping the place upright.

"This is Aaron," Michonne said to him, standing to the left of the hostage, hands on her hips, glaring at Rick. "He's come to take us to a _safe_ place. Says it's called Alexandria. Says he's got food, people, electricity." She seemed to savor the words.

Daryl walked past Maggie and over to Aaron. He dropped the game in his hands and squatted down so that he was eye level with the new stranger. Aaron. He had a kind face, clean clothes, but his hands looked too pristine, too weak, too manicured. The man was soft. Daryl could tell. He squinted at Aaron. Aaron stared back. From somewhere behind him, Rick spoke up.

"I sent part of the group to go looking for his vehicle. He says he's got two, and another man out there. He wants to take us there, to Washington." Rick's voice quieted momentarily. He seemed to be thinking.

Daryl stood up and turned to face his friend.

"We need a place. Can't keep on like this. We both know it."

Rick nodded again. Daryl was right – they needed long-term shelter, but at what price?

"Yeah, I do know," Rick said slowly. Then he looked down at Aaron, "but what I don't know is if we can trust _him_."

"Do you wanna trust him?"

Rick seemed surprised by Daryl's question.

"Yeah, I do."

"You think we can trust anyone anymore?"

"I don't know the answer to that question any better than you, brother."

Daryl thought on this momentarily. A safe place sounded too good to be true. Rick was right to be cautious.

_I ain't ever been out of Georgia before… _it looked like the times might be changing. He pushed the memory from his mind.

Daryl turned back to face Aaron again. "Tell me about your place."

…

Eventually, Carol, Glenn, Rosita and Noah returned from their venture to find Aaron's car. His story checked out. They had found the other man, too. Eric was his name, it turned out he was Aaron's life partner.

They found out everything they needed to know on the road. They moved rather quickly now that they had two vehicles. Aaron called his safe haven the Alexandria Safe Zone. Daryl thought it sounded too good to be true. So did Rick. But Michonne was insistent, and Rick listened to her opinions above all else. She was usually the smartest, the fastest, the all-around best survivor, so Daryl didn't blame him. He would trust Michonne with his life. But that same trust didn't translate over to Aaron and his boyfriend.

As they headed towards Alexandria, Daryl couldn't help but wonder what this meant for them now. Would there be houses? Other people? What would they think of him? Could they accept him the way his new family had? Beth had once told him that there were still good people. He wanted to believe her. But in the end, she was the best of them all, and look at where that had left her.

_I don't think I can do this without you, Beth_, he thought to himself.

But suddenly a voice materialized in his head. Her voice.

_Yes you can. I know you can. I'll be here to keep on remindin' you sometimes._

Was this it? Was this his breaking point? Had he finally lost his marbles? Maybe he had. But as he stared out the window of the car, he realized he didn't care. Better to go nuts and hear her voice again than to exist without her at all. He was a goner either way.

He noticed a sign fast approaching. "_Georgia State Line._" Daryl stared at it as it got closer and closer. And then as quickly as it came, it passed.

_Look at that,_ her voice said to him, appearing again._ Looks like you've finally left Georgia after all._

Daryl watched as the sign grew smaller in the distance. It seemed so insignificant. He had left Georgia, but Georgia hadn't left him. Georgia would never leave him. His whole life had happened there. In his youth, Georgia had chewed him up and spit him out. Georgia had taken his father, his mother, his brother. Georgia had gifted him with his new family, and with Beth. Georgia had taken her away again. Georgia had ripped the very soul out of his body. He'd left his sanity back in Georgia. It didn't matter where he went now.

…

_Hey guys! I am SO sorry it took this long for me to update! I've been busy but it's no excuse! Also I know a lot of this stuff happened in the last few episodes, but I really want to get Daryl to the Alexandria Safe Zone so that then I can kinda branch off and take the story somewhere new. And I also like the idea of sticking to the same characters that are in the show - I really like Aaron and Eric so I've brought them into this. I did want to change it up just a little bit from what we saw on the show, though. The next Daryl chapter will also incorporate stuff from the show but I'll definitely be branching out a lot more! And I'll be updating again really soon, I promise (Beth chapter wooo)! Please like and review! It always makes my day!_


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